


The Happy Ending

by hypnoshatesme



Series: I couldn't decide so I made it your problem [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Anxiety, Fluff, M/M, gertrude is actually a decent person in this i promise, minimal editing because patience might be a virture but it ain't mine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26651422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypnoshatesme/pseuds/hypnoshatesme
Summary: In which Gerry takes way too long to read a book.
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley
Series: I couldn't decide so I made it your problem [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939126
Comments: 16
Kudos: 49





	The Happy Ending

**Author's Note:**

> look I know I could've just made alternative endings, but where would be the fun in THAT?  
> So no, while this is very similar it has different scenes and definitley more "plot" if you want to call it that.

The book was a birthday present. By that point - he didn’t know how much time had passed, it seemed to fly with Michael - Gerry was somewhat used to it. The concept of giving a shit about his birthday and presents in general - and Michael quite enjoyed surprising him with those at random - had been some of the things Michael had brought to his life. 

It still surprised Gerry sometimes, at least the gifts outside of what went for special occasions. They at least had stopped making him nervous, suspicious even, a while ago. Michael wasn’t Mary. His gifts weren’t promise of eventual guilt tripping. He gave them because it made him happy. Gerry understood that now, but it had taken some getting used to.

Michael in general had taken some getting used to from the very start, even before they were together, even before they were close enough to be called anything but coworkers. Gerry still remembered his surprise at the friendly smile when he walked into the Institute, looking very much at odds with the dreary atmosphere, certainly with Gertrude’s stern expression. But it hadn’t quite left his lips even after introductions, and Gerry caught Michael throwing him glances for all of the first day. It had made Gerry suspicious, especially since he couldn’t read anything on that face except a friendly, curious interest. That was not how people tended to look at him.

“Do you need something?” 

Michael duck his head at Gerry’s close-to-snapping tone, and Gerry felt bad. He hadn’t meant to sound like that. But Michael was putting him on edge.

“O-oh, I just...I was, uh...admi- I, I mean...looking at...your hair.” Michael had managed to say, not meeting Gerry’s eyes. “It...it’s pretty.”

Gerry froze. He was used to getting stupid, unwanted comments on his hair, and that was what he had been expecting after Michael mentioned it. ‘Pretty’ had not been the word he expected to hear and it threw him off for a moment, eyes wide and unblinking, before narrowing in suspicion. Michael was looking increasingly uncomfortable, face taking on a red hue under Gerry’s scrutiny. 

“I...I’m sorry?” Michael mumbled eventually.

Gerry was confused. This person was making less and less sense. “What for?”

Michael bit his lip, hands twisting at the back of his back. “You...look like you didn’t, uh...appreciate that. And, well...I guess staring is kind of rude, so...sorry for that, too.” He was definitely blushing now. The rest of what he said was barely audible. “It...it’s just so...shiny.”

Gerry shook his head, mind still trying to process the scene, this _person_ who apparently just randomly compliments complete strangers on their hair while also making it sound incredibly _genuine_. Gerry went back to work and Michael, after another short moment of standing there and waiting for Gerry to say something, went back to work himself. 

Michael brought him his first gift the next day, some homemade cookies with an apology note.

Gerry frowned when he saw them on his desk. “What are these?”

Michael sat up behind his desk, looking at Gerry with a tentative smile. “Oh, I...still had some from the weekend, and...well, I just wanted to apologise.”

“I...it’s fine.” He sighed, looking at Michael. “Sorry for snapping. You can have them back.”

Michael gave him a surprised look. “What? No! They’re for you!”

“I don’t want them.”

“You don’t like them?”

Gerry hesitated, before admitting, “I do, they smell great.”

“Then why-”

“I don’t want to owe you.”

“You don’t. They’re a gift.”

Gerry knit his brows. “I understand.”

“I’m...not sure you do.” He brushed his hair behind his ears. “Look, if you, if you don’t want them? Just put them in the break room. Maybe Miss Robinson wants some. But they’re yours. I won’t take them back.”

Gerry shook his head, deciding that further discussion was pointless, and went to work. He didn’t even notice when he started nibbling on one of the cookies while reading a statement.

So yes, it was difficult to get used to Michael’s gifts, especially after Gerry realised that often Michael didn’t even need a reason to bring him something. Not everything was an apology - though Michael did apologise a lot - but nothing seemed to be given with the intent of getting something back. Even years later, Gerry would sometimes still feel an echo of his old paranoia about it, usually in the morning after a nightmare. Usually, looking at Michael’s sleeping face beside him would calm him back down quickly.

Birthday gifts were easier to understand. Gerry knew, of course, that people normally made a big deal of their birthdays and gave each other gifts. It had still been a surprise when Michael showed up with a cake to work the first time and part of Gerry still felt a small surge of surprise as Michael pressed the book into his hands with a kiss to his cheek and a ‘happy birthday’ years later. Michael hadn’t been to work, only arriving from his latest trip with Gertrude the day before and too jet lagged to make it. Gertrude had been back in her office already, but Gerry assumed time zones, as most other things, just didn't shake her. Michael had looked like shit when he arrived - though he always did, flying wasn't his thing - but Gerry had been far too relieved to have him back at all to be too bothered. 

Gerry, as much as he wished he could, just couldn't trust Gertrude. Even after he warned Michael - he had told him about everything pretty early on, unable to deal with the anxiety he felt seeing the friendly blond go on those trips without knowing, trusting Gertrude so eagerly he never even considered doing some research on the destination himself.

Gerry had grown fond of Michael, enjoyed their easy chatter and the quiet company. Michael deserved to know and be appropriately careful. He hadn’t quite believed Gerry at first, but had promised to be more careful and not take Gertrude up on everything she said. It only did little to make Gerry feel reassured when Gertrude took Michael on another trip, and the relief he felt every time Michael came back only got more intense the closer they got.

“Thank you.” Gerry said, running his fingers over the book. As usual, Michael had remembered him mentioning it a while back and had gotten it for him. It happened, occasionally, and Gerry guessed waiting for his birthday had given Michael a proper excuse to get him something a little more expensive. He looked up at Michael who still looked a little nervous - even though he had never gotten Gerry anything he hadn’t loved - and smiled. “Kiss?”

Michael returned the smile and nodded, closing the gap and pressing their lips together. His kisses were still hesitant, usually, even with Gerry specifically asking for them. It was fine. Michael usually melted into the kiss when Gerry returned it, uncertainty sliding away as he indulged himself. Today, he still seemed a little on edge when they pulled away.

“Did...I hope I got the right one?” he asked, glancing at the book. 

Gerry chuckled. “As always, yes. Thanks.” He grinned. “And welcome back, by the way. You kind of collapsed in bed yesterday and were still out cold this morning.”

Michael blushed slightly. “Didn’t get to sleep much on this trip...” He smiled again, taking Gerry’s hand. “I did make dinner.”

Michael pulled him into the kitchen, and Gerry remembered to leave the book on the couch.

Gerry had all intention to start reading it the same evening - he even remembered to bring it to the bedroom, but the idea stood on shaky ground when Michael looked at him, eyes half-lidded - not with sleep, like the night before - a glint of mischief in them as his fingers danced up Gerry’s arm.

“May I kiss you?” his voice dropped into a pleasant murmur as his fingertips traced the eye on Gerry’s elbow, his lips tugging into a promising grin, nearly a smirk. 

In theory, Gerry had seen this expression often enough to be used to it. It was rare, yes, but probably not rare enough to excuse his heart still skipping a beat now, body growing warm with anticipation, a tingling sensation running down his spine as he breathed, “Yes.”

The book on Gerry’s nightstand was the last thing on his mind when Michael rolled over and straddled his hips, bringing their lips together in a passionate kiss, one hand finding its way underneath Gerry’s shirt as the other gently wrapped around his biceps.

Gerry picked the book up a couple days later after a drawn-out lazy Saturday morning mostly spent in bed in that blissful state between sleep and wakefulness, lazy kisses pressed against the other's skin, lips, limbs tangled in sheets and each other. Gerry always missed their lazy mornings when Michael was off with Gertrude, and he liked making up for the lost time. But eventually they had moved from the bed into the kitchen Michael started cleaning after breakfast while Gerry retrieved his book from the bedroom to sit on the couch, starting to read with Michael’s absent minded humming trickling in from the open kitchen door. Gerry smiled as he began reading.

By the end of the week Michael saw Gerry reading a different book. He sat down next to him on the couch. “Did you already lose interest in the one I got you?”

Gerry looked up, smiling at Michael’s somewhat nervous tone. Still wondering whether he made the right choice, he guessed. “No, I just remembered I was close to finishing this one and suddenly felt like doing that.”

Michael chuckled and relaxed a little. “Oh...okay, then.” 

He took his knitting things from the coffee table and went to work on it, needing something to channel his nerves.

Gerry got busy with work for a week or two where he didn’t get to read much. When Michael finally saw him with a book again, it was a different one from the two he had been reading before. He didn’t manage to control his expression morphing into alarm. Gerry noticed, of course.

“What’s the matter?”

Michael walked past him to pour himself a glass of water. He couldn’t really say what the matter was, it would be suspicious. So instead, he decided to bring up a different thing that was making him anxious.

“Miss Robinson mentioned another trip.”

“So soon?” Gerry raised an eyebrow, suspicion in his voice. He put the book in his hand down. “Have you looked into it already?”

Michael hesitated, which was an answer in itself. Gerry knew that, while Michael had agreed to at least check the destinations himself before going with Gertrude, he still felt like he was betraying her in doing so. It made him uncomfortable. It wasn’t the first time Gerry had been the one doing the checking for him. He got his phone from the kitchen table. 

“Where did she say you’ll be going?”

Michael bit his lip. “Gerry, I...nothing has happened after so many trips, it...it’s been, what? Three years? Since...since you warned me, are...are you sure-”

“I know you want to trust her, Michael, I do. I...I want to trust her, too, believe me.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “But I can’t. Not...well, not with all of her other assistants being...mysteriously misplaced. I’m just worried. It...I’d rather check one time too many than regretting it later.”

Michael snickered. “I’m rubbing off on you…”

“Maybe you are,” Gerry answered, laughing. “So?”

“Russia.” Michael knit his brows, thinking. “Uh...Sannikov Land? I think? I forgot the Russian name...”

Michael watched Gerry google it patiently. Meaning that he was on edge, gripping the glass more tightly than necessary. He didn’t like this, he really didn’t. Miss Robinson had always been...well, maybe not nice to him, but also hadn’t given him much reason to distrust her.

Well, maybe she _had_ but Michael liked giving the benefit of a doubt. It wasn’t that Michael didn’t trust Gerry, a lot of what he had told Michael made an awful lot of sense when he thought about it. But still, this somehow felt wrong. Looking the destination up was something he always did, now, and it had long stopped being something to satisfy Gerry. Michael knew that he himself had started to doubt. And he hated it, because Miss Robinson used to be the one figure he could trust. Michael knew he had Gerry now, but his stomach still twisted when he thought about it. He watched the crease between Gerry’s eyes deepen as he read whatever he had found.

“What...what is it?”

Gerry quoted, “‘Sannikov Land was a phantom island in the Arctic Ocean. Its supposed existence became something of a myth in 19th-century Russia.’”

Michael drew his eyebrows together. “Phantom island? What...what does that...mean?”

Gerry looked at him. “It doesn’t exist.”

They looked at each other in heavy silence. Michael wasn’t sure what to make of this. It didn’t exist? How could it not exist? He was fairly sure he had heard right. Or had he?

“Maybe I...misunderstood?” he tried, carefully. This was making him uneasy. Things had always worked out until now, every place Gertrude had told him had been findable. So this was probably his fault.

Gerry didn’t know what it was, by now, but he had little problem picking up on Michael’s disquiet. There was no point in Michael stressing out completely already, so Gerry simply said, “Let’s ask her tomorrow, okay?”

Michael nodded, slowly. It made sense, right? Asking her. If he had misheard...but what if Miss Robinson asked why he had looked it up in the first place? It was a rude thing to do, wasn’t it? What if she was hurt by his distrust? Michael was too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice Gerry pulling him into his lap until he was being squeezed against Gerry’s chest.

“It’ll be fine, Michael.”

Michael nodded again and leaned into the hug, unsure how much any of that was helping his whirring thoughts.

Gertrude was busy as always when they entered her office the next day, but she did look up. Gerry would say she looked surprised at seeing them both, but it was hard to tell with her. 

“Do you need something?”

Gerry nodded. “We do, yes. Michael mentioned your next trip and...Sannikov Land, was it?”

“Yes.” She was as unreadable as always and Gerry couldn’t tell if that was what was putting him on edge or if it was Michael’s clear discomfort at the whole situation rubbing off on him. Gerry was generally used to dealing with Gertrude. He knew that this wasn’t necessarily a special reaction for her. It didn’t prove anything. The only difference was that this was about Michael’s safety.

“It doesn’t exist,” he decided to state, wanting to get this over with.

Michael clearly did not like his harsh tone and quickly added, “Are you sure you, uh, got the name right?”

Gertrude’s eyes fell on Michael, who stood up straighter under her gaze, “I am, yes. Gerard is right.”

Michael, who had had an apology for misunderstanding her on the tip of his tongue, was stunned. “I...don’t understand?”

She considered for a moment, before saying, “It doesn’t exist and it does.” 

Michael looked even more confused, but Gerry knit his brows, considering. This was starting to sound a lot like Fear bullshit.

“The Spiral.” It was a question, but Gertrude wasn’t one to answer those straightforwardly so he tried to sound as sure of himself as he could.

Gertrude met his eyes steadily. “Yes.”

“But...what does it mean?” Michael interjected, feeling the tension in the air without really knowing where it was coming from. His understanding of all the Fears was still rather basic. Gertrude hadn’t been happy with him knowing anything at all, she clearly had not volunteered anything to add to what Gerry had explained. And while Gerry had tried, his explanation wasn’t the most comprehensive. It wasn’t like Gerry completely understood all of it, either, after all.

Gertrude looked at Michael again and this time, he forced himself to stand still. “I meant to stop the ritual with you.”

Gerry was clearly losing patience. “Would he be coming back?”

“No.” 

He wasn’t surprised by her response, but Gerry’s hands still tightened into fists at his side. More because of her tone. Still utterly neutral. As if she hadn’t just spoken about sacrificing another human. Gerry hated it. And he hated even more that part of him admired her for being able to talk about it this way. Gerry had always been too soft, according to his mother. While Mary had been wrong about many things, this she probably had a point on. And it stung Gerry to admit it.

He had to calm down. In the end, while Michael had told him to do the talking, this was still about Michael. He was the one who would have to decide, in the end. Gerry looked at him. Michael still looked like he was having trouble following the conversation - Gerry couldn’t blame him - but his eyes were wide at the realisation that Gertrude had just admitted he had never been meant to come back from their trip. He did understand that.

“Michael,” Gerry waited until he had Michael’s attention before asking, “do you still want to go?”

Michael frowned at him. “But go where? How can we go somewhere that doesn’t exist?”

“Spiral bullshit, I assume.”

Gertrude nodded. “That’s one way to put it.”

Michael turned to her again, still frowning in confusion. “What happens if...if I don’t go?”

She sighed, “The ritual would succeed-”

“You don’t know that,” Gerry interrupted, the edge of anger in his voice barely contained.

“Gerard.” Gertrude’s tone was also turning sharper as she threw him a warning look. Gerry didn’t back off. He couldn’t understand how she could do the things she did if she had an ounce of doubt about their necessity in her. And he _knew_ she had, he had looked through her things.

“I have seen your notes, you have been wondering about the possibility of them succeeding at all. You don’t know.”

“But it’s a possibility that they will.”

Gerry shook his head. “Not enough to sacrifice somebody.”

 _Sacrifice_ . Michael didn’t like that word at all. He guessed it was the most accurate description of what he was meant to do, though. He just wasn’t sure whether he _wanted_ to do that. Was Michael even worthy of being a sacrifice? Or would he just end up making things worse?

He was lost in his own mind when Gertrude addressed him again, “I can’t force you to go, Michael.”

It took a moment for him to understand she was talking to him. He wished he hadn’t. Michael hated being the focus of attention and making decisions, and this was somehow both. He glanced at Gerry, whose jaw was tight, but who was otherwise trying for a neutral expression. Miss Robinson didn’t need to try for one. 

Michael was fidgeting with his sleeves. “I...I’ll have to think about it.”

Michael was an anxious mess after that conversation. For once, Gerry did understand that perfectly. He assumed he would probably not be in a much better state had he been in that situation. Gerry had dared to consider going with him, or even in his place, but it only made Michael feel worse. He didn’t want to get Gerry in danger, too. He had enough of that. But Michael wasn’t enthusiastic about getting in danger himself, either, much less into some sort of situation that would not let him come back. Michael had grown fond of how his life was, lately. He didn’t want it to be cut short now. But that was selfish considering the other option seemed to be some sort of apocalypse. Michael couldn’t sleep. Neither could Gerry. They kept having the same conversation.

“It will be my fault.”

“Michael, we don’t even know if it will work without interfering.” Gerry brushed Michael’s hair out of his face. He kept pulling at the curls, nervously twisting and untwisting them, ending up with strands of hair in his face. Gerry took his hands, trying to keep him from stopping to pull at his hair. “And even if it did it wouldn’t be _your_ fault, you didn’t initiate the Spiral ritual.”

Michael’s hands were still restless, thumbs following Gerry’s fingers. “I don’t know, Gerry, I...maybe it...would be for the best? C...considering the...what might happen?”

“It wouldn’t.” Michael was surprised by the certainty in Gerry’s voice. Gerry squeezed his hands, continuing, “I...look, I know part of it is selfish, but I don’t want to lose you. In general you deserve better than...than just...being fed off like that.” He looked into Michael’s eyes, “And she wouldn’t even have told you had we not confronted her.”

Gerry still couldn’t forgive that. Michael, on his side, wasn’t as bothered by it as he probably should. Part of him wished they hadn’t asked and he wouldn’t have to be making a decision about it.

He had been chewing his lip so much lately, he wasn’t even bothered by tasting blood anymore. “I….I just...I worry.”

“Look, it’s your decision.” Gerry sighed, letting go of one of Michael’s hands to gently wipe the fresh trickle of blood from Michael’s lip. “I won’t stop you if you choose to go. But...I just think it...walking into...death just on the off-chance of stopping the apocalypse...I don’t know, it just...doesn’t sit right with me.” 

Michael tried for a smile, but he simply looked tired. “What happened to your ‘better safe than sorry’?”

Gerry gently cupped his cheek, but he didn’t smile. “Looking up your destination doesn’t harm anyone.”

Michael sighed, “I guess…”

Gerry didn’t push him. He let Michael ramble on about his thoughts on this and he gave his opinion, but he didn’t push it, as much as he wanted to. It wasn’t like he wasn’t nervous about letting the ritual happen himself, he _was_ , but if it later turned out that it hadn’t been necessary he knew he would never forgive himself. So Gerry swallowed most of the arguments he wanted to bring to the table. Some of them sounded like pleading anyways, and that would just be unfair towards Michael. He was already struggling enough.

Michael was just getting more and more on edge as the date grew closer to his possible trip. He didn’t want to go and not come back. He didn’t know what exactly that entailed, but he liked his home, his apartment with all his nicknacks and Gerry in it. He even liked his job, even if it was trying to get him killed, or something like it. It had taken Michael so long to get to this point, to a point where he could think of himself as happy.

He didn’t want to give all of that up. Even if the other option was the possible end of the world. Gerry had joked, during one of Michael’s many, many rants about this in the last week that even if the world ends he’d much rather face it with Michael from their home. Michael had felt that, deeply, and he couldn’t stop thinking of it since. Michael was nearly choking on guilt when he finally answered Miss Robinson’s question with a no. He wouldn’t be going.

Somehow, Michael managed to get worse. He was a breath away from panic in the week that was supposed to be the Russia trip and, eventually, he was sent home from work. Gerry went with him, despite Gertrude not looking too amused by that. But Gerry wanted to be with Michael in case he needed something, wanted to be there to hold his hands before he started burying his nails in his own arms or pulling at his hair. Gerry wanted to be there, with him, if the world did end up changing.

It didn’t. The week passed where the ritual had been supposed to happen, and nothing changed. Michael couldn’t believe it. He was still on edge when he came back to the Institute, going straight to the archivist’s office to ask Gertrude whether she had been sure she had the date right, whether the ritual had succeeded but with some sort of delayed reaction. Gerry had stayed behind, leaned next to the door to the office, eavesdropping. He was impressed when Gertrude managed to sit through most of the conversation without her voice getting that irritated, impatient edge to it. 

Gerry slipped into the office after Michael left, looking tired, but more reassured than he had before. Gerry kissed his cheek and suggested him getting himself a cup of tea while Gerry talked to Gertrude and Michael nodded, making his way to the break room. He seemed a little dazed, still. He probably needed some time for it all to settle in. Gerry could probably relate if he hadn’t had a different question bugging him at the forefront of his mind. He looked up at Gertrude.

“Gertrude?”

She gave a sigh. “What do you want, Gerard?”

He nearly smiled. That sounded more like her. 

“Why didn’t you lie?”

Gertrude raised one eyebrow, but as most of her facial expressions, it didn’t quite look genuine, but staged. “What are you talking about?”

Gerry had a feeling she knew exactly what he was talking about, but he still elaborated, “Sannikov Land. Why didn’t you just give him a name of a place that actually existed? Wherever the flight was going to land?” He was trying to catch anything in her face, but Gertrude’s expression stayed unreadable. “He would have gone and you could’ve gone through with it.”

“Apparently, it wasn’t necessary, was it?” 

She was starting to look back at her files, but Gerry wasn’t done yet.

“But you didn’t know.”

“I would have to try that theory out sooner or later.” She didn’t bother looking up from her files and Gerry knew that tone well, the kind that made clear that the conversation was over.

Now Gerry did smile. “...Thank you.”

When Gerry walked into the break room, Michael was still there, holding a steaming mug of tea and staring into it. Gerry saw a second one on the counter and grabbed it.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, voice gentle.

Michael jumped at the voice, only noticing Gerry’s presence as he spoke. He looked up from the tea and at Gerry. “Do...do you really think this...was it?”

Gerry nodded confidently. Michael nodded, too, though with less confidence. He brought his tea to his lips and took a tentative sip.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to...work...today.”

“Don’t stress yourself about that. We’ll manage together, okay?” Gerry, for his part, couldn’t wait to get to work and try to push all that awe and disbelief he was feeling and something actually apparently going _well_ for him to the side. It was overwhelming. He needed to calm down. Filing sounded incredibly appealing right now. He gave Michael a reassuring smile. “Just take it slow. You can just watch me, if you want.”

Michael shook his head. “No, I want to try, I...I want to...go back to before.”

“That’s fine, too.” Gerry held out his hand. “Just don’t push yourself too much.”

“I won’t.” Michael took his hand with a smile and they went back to the assistants’ office.

They both were calmer on their way home. Or maybe they just were tired. Michael certainly was, his eyes barely keeping open on the bus. He had managed to get back into work and had, as usual, tried to get everything done at once. While he hadn’t managed, it at least seemed to have given him enough of a break from anxiety for him to feel thoroughly tired.

It still took a while for him to pass out when they had both made it to bed. But Michael hadn’t been sleeping properly for weeks, and ever since the week started he had basically slept nothing. 

So Gerry wasn’t too surprised when, eventually, after a while of holding Michael close, rubbing calming circles into his back, Michael was fast asleep. Gerry had no such luck, even after closing his eyes and focusing on Michael’s steady breathing for what felt like at least an hour. When Michael shifted in sleep, rolling over and onto his stomach, Gerry sat up, rubbing his face. He was far too awake. He had been pushing down how much the waiting was getting to him, out of habit and also because Michael didn’t need him freaking out, too. Now it was like all that repressed nervousness was coming to the surface, no matter how often he told himself it was over. 

He sighed, looking at Michael, who had his face pressed into the pillow by now. He gently pet his hair. Michael didn’t stir, and Gerry was fairly sure he was out for good. He was a light sleeper, usually, but Gerry had witnessed him sleeping through a whole day when exhausted. He considered for a moment, before reaching for the book on his nightstand, turning on the light on his side and lowering it so it was bright enough for him to read, but not so bright to disturb Michael. He shot Michael a glance, but he hadn’t moved and so Gerry leaned back against his pillow and opened the book. 

He had come close to finishing Michael’s birthday present before the whole trip to nowhere conversation had started and put Gerry in a too tight-strung mental state to even think of reading. Only work really seemed to distract him when he was in such a state, that and Michael. But he wanted to try now, maybe it would finally make it easier to process that it was over. Gerry let out another quiet sigh, looking at Michael one last time to make sure he didn’t seem disturbed, before starting to read.

It didn’t take long for Gerry to be sucked back in - why had he stopped reading it in the first place? He didn’t remember - and the occasional glances he threw over to Michael stopped as he lost himself in the paragraphs. His focus was broken, however, when he turned the last page and his eyes ignored the last few lines of the book, caught instead by the handwriting underneath. It was Michael’s, when he put the time into writing readably. Confusion didn’t have the time to set in as Gerry’s eyes took the words in, just one simple sentence:

_Would you like to marry me?_

Gerry stared at the words like he was sure he must have misread, but the words stayed the same no matter how many times he blinked. Memories of the past couple weeks, Michael’s nervous glances whenever he saw him reading. Gerry was shaking Michael’s shoulder before he realised what he was doing, heart racing. He couldn’t really find it in himself to feel too bad when Michael startled awake, quickly rolling onto his side to look at Gerry with wide, bleary eyes. “G-Gerry? Are you okay?”

“Michael.” Gerry sounded too breathless. “Michael, is this- are you...does this...still apply?”

Michael pulled himself up into a sitting position, rubbing at his eyes with a yawn. Gerry struggled to not push him, watched him impatiently as his mind was spinning. Now all those looks Michael had given him made sense. Gerry had just assumed he was going through one of the rougher anxiety patches, it was always phases for Michael. And Gerry guessed he _had,_ but he had a very specific reason for it. And he had just waited. He hadn’t even tried to push Gerry to finally finish the book. He had just waited and simmered in nerves and Gerry couldn’t fucking believe how much like Michael that sounded. He should’ve known. He should have interpreted the signs better. He should have-

“What...what is it? What...applies?” Michael mumbled, voice still a bit groggy with sleep as he looked at Gerry, blinking a couple times until the dim light stopped hurting his eyes and made Gerry look like he had a halo.

Gerry pushed the book towards him, not trusting himself to speak. It wasn’t- was he surprised? He guessed he was surprised, but not really. He had been wondering about it himself, pondering whether Michael would want that, would like that. He seemed like the kind who would. 

But Gerry had never entertained the idea _he would ask_. That didn’t really seem like him, did it? How long had it taken him to get up the courage to write those words? Hell, how long had it taken him to come up with a way he could go through with without dying from anxiety? And Gerry? Gerry hadn’t really thought about details, had felt overwhelmed with too many possibilities to ask such a question, with wondering what would be the appropriate setting and way and whether he should get a ring and-

“O-oh!” Michael’s voice sounded much more awake suddenly, a couple pitches too high as he gripped the book, face flushing quickly. “I...I mean...I…” He swallowed and shot a quick glance at Gerry who was staring at him wide-eyed and Michael didn’t know what that meant, so he took a deep breath and nodded, “Yes. Yes, I...I do still- if, if you’d...like? I would...would like to...uh...marry you.” He couldn’t believe he got the words out, even if his voice trembled and he felt like he might faint and now he didn’t dare to look at Gerry. 

How often had he tried to say those words? How often had he changed the wording and mumbled it under his breath, hoping it would sound right and comfortable at some point? It never did. He had never managed to bring them over his lips without feeling incredibly uncomfortable. But he had _said it now_. And Michael did not feel uncomfortable, not like before. All he felt was anxiety at what the reaction would be to those words. But the words themselves had felt right.

“Fuck, Michael, of course I want to marry you, I- I was...had been thinking of asking, but I couldn’t decide and-”

“You do?” Michael looked at him, surprised.

“Yes, Michael, _yes_.” Gerry pulled him into his arms, a too-tight hug but Michael was too busy returning it, a relieved, still a little high-pitched laugh escaping him.

**Author's Note:**

> If I ever say I want to write a proposal again somebody come and beat the idea out of me.


End file.
